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INDEPENDENCE, IOWA: 

1891. 

Entered according to Act of Congress in the year Eighteen Hundred and Ninety-One. 

By LAWRENCE W. CHANDLER, 

In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. D .C. 



WAPSIE! 

M Qordsr Draxxia In Fins Mutm. 



TAKEN FROM THE LEGEND OF WAPSIE AND PINICON, THE SCENES BEING 
LOCATED NEAR THE PRESENT SITE /OF INDEPENDENCE— TIME, 1830. 



By L_ W; EhsririlBF, 
CHST OF CHHRHCTERS. 

_>!_. 

OLLECHIAINEY. Chief of the Sioux 

WAPSIE, a Sac brave ______ 

HALO CUAITJJX, a medicine woman 

WINGED DEMON, a mysterious white man 

ELEET-EOOT, 

SILENT-WA.TER, ) 

JOHN WILTON, the first settler 

JOE -ALRIGHT, a trapper - - 

RALPH ROLYSTON, who seelrs vengeance and finds a wife 

CORK, a darky who relieves the monotony, - - - _ 

PAT, a gem of the Emerald Isle ------ 

PINICON ', the Sioux chief's daughter. - - 

MOLLIE WILTON f a prairie flower, - 
AIRS, WILTON, a devoted wife and mother, - 

BRIAR ROSE, a Sioux squaw, 

Warriors, Squaws. Indian Maidens and Children. 

— •-_*♦• — 

INDIAN AND PIONEER COSTUMES. TIME REQUIRED, TWO HOURS AND 

FORTY-FIVE MINUTES. 



} Indian scouts. > 









\ 



TMP92-008814 



MCTf I. 

SCENE l — Camp ground, tent (R. u. e.) Camp fire ivith tri- 
. poles, kettle-log near fire, R. — Curtain discovers Mr. and 

Mrs. Wilton and Cork. 

WlLTON. Cork, look after the horses and cow, and I will 
help mother arrange the tent and look after the comforts 
of the camp. Where is Pat? 

CORK. He's gone to look after game for supper. Of 
course he ain't on hand if there's anything to do. But I'll 
attend to the domesticated quadrupedals, Massa Wilton. 
'Scuse me. [Exit L. c. E.] 

WlLTON. Well, mother, what do you say to locating 
here? This is about as pretty a stretch of land as any one 
may find anywhere. 

Mrs. Wilton. Oh, John, it makes little difference where 
we settle, so we settle down somewhere. You certainly 
cannot go much farther into the wilderness. I am tired of 
this continual moving, and just so we get under a roof once 
more, is all I care. Then, I know, I will feel less heathen- 
ish. Have you any idea where you want to go, anyway? 

WlLTON. As I was saying, just now, I do not want to 
go anywhere — I want to stay here. It does not seem to 
make so much difference where we are, mother, if we are 
only contented. The good Lord has made this land just as 
beautiful, if not more so, than any we have left, and we 
ought to try and put it to some profit. This would make a 
grand townsite. 

Mrs. W. I presume you will next try to civilize the 
savages. I know you love the woods and the quiet of back- 
woods life, John, but this is a little too remote from civiliza- 
tion to please me. ' But may I ask what special line of 
work have you mapped out for our daughter, in this soli- 
tude, unbroken, save by the yell of Indians or the howling 
of wolves? 

Mr. W. Please do not get sarcastic, mother. We are 
expected to leave all relics of civilization behind, you know. 
Besides, you forget Cork and Pat, who make more noise 
than all the savages and beasts in chorus. Listen to that! 

[Pat sings in wing.] 

"I'm a simple Irish lad, 

And I'm looking for a place," 

[Enter] Pat. And I tell you, Mrs. Wilton, we have 



WHPSIE. 



found the right place this time. Why, this neck of the 
woods reminds me of ould Ireland, barring the swate- 
hearts I've left behind. 

WILT. Then you like this section of the country, Pat? 

Pat. Loike it! She's a daisy. There is plenty of good 
sile here to fatten paraties, slathers of game that you can 
have for the pickin', and a river as foine as Killarney lake. 
I ran over a bit of the moor down there and picked up an 
illegant supper. Look at that. [Holds up game.] Divil 
a bit of the likes of that would a fellow dare to do in the 
ould country. I'm an Irishman, born and bred on the bogs 
of Ould Ireland, and I love all the swate memories 
clustered around the Shamrock; but you may boil me up 
in soup and serve me to the red nagars, if I've yet seen the 
first foot of sile in the land of the free that I have wanted 
to lave. The saints bless the Emerald Isle, America can 
take care of herself. 

Mr. W. (laughing). You are a little enthusiastic Pat, in 
your patriotism for your adopted home. Your heart is in 
the right place, though, and your sentiments are all right. 
That is the kind of talk that will encourage people to build 
up this great west, which is bound to out-stride all parts of 
the world. Hello, here comes Mollie ! 

Mollie. (enter 1. c. e.) I have had a delightful romp, 
mother. Every foot of surroundings is a perfect picture; 
father, don't go any further. Let's stay right here. This 
is the sweetest place on the face oi the earth. Any one 
ought to be happy here. 

Wilt. There, mother, what do you think of that for 
an answer to your question? 

MOLLIE. Why, what are you talking about? 

WlLT. Well, you see girlie, mother has been a little 
home-sick, and while we were talking over our prospects, 
a few moments ago, you, of course, entered our thoughts, 
and your future was discussed, and I told mother to let you 
speak for yourself, so far as remaining here is concerned. 

MOLLIE. Oh! mother dear, you must not get home sick, 
[kisses her.] How can you when the birds sing so sweetly 
and the lovliest of wild flowers grow in profusion, and all 
things speak of health, happiness and freedom. Then, 
there is father and myself to cheer you. 



MHPSIE. 



Pat. Phawt's the matter wid me? 

CORK, (enters 1. c. e. running and excited.) Ise a gone 
niggah, suah! Dars an Injun coming this way. He's got a. 
toma knife bigger nor a scoope shovel. Fo' de love of 
Africa, protect dis niggah. 

Wlt. Be quiet, you coward, no one is going to hurt 
you. 

Pat. I have a strong arm and willing heart. Show me 
the red niggah and see me put him to slape. 

[Enter Clatawah.] 

Cork. [Going to wagon.] Scuse me! 

Clatawah. What pale face want here? 

Pat. Want to be let alone, ye spalpein, and we are 
going to be. 

WLT. Be quiet Pat. We want to stay here, to live 
among your people. We are willing to pay the chief for 
the land, if he will give us protection. 

CLT. Paleface talks well; Clatawah will take the mes- 
sage of his white friend to Ollechimney. The chief will be 
pleased, but Winged Demon may not. He bad white man 
who live at Ollechimney's camp. He buy nothing, think 
he own everything. 

Pat. (aside.) Bedad I've found the Prince of Whales. 

WLT. Who do you mean? 

Clt. Winged Demon, the chief's evil spirit. He want 
to kill all time. He give Indian fire water and make him 
bad. 

Pat. Fire water! Show him to me and the world is 
mine. 

Mrs. W. Pat! 

Wlt. (Goes to wagon and gets blankets.) Take these 
to the chief as gifts from his white friends who wish to 
live here in peace. Tell him his white brother wishes to 
be friendly, and would like to see him. 

Clt. Me take them to Ollechimney; me tell chief you 
good white man. 

Pat. If old smoky chimbly don't want our friend- 
ship, tell him we have got our nerve with us. [Exit Clata- 
wah.] 

Mr. W. Pat, why do you persist in trying to provoke 
the savage. 



JflZHPSIE. 



PAT. I want the divils to distinctly understhand that 
while they can fight the United States, and be pardoned 
when they'r whipped, they can't monkey around Ireland. 
[Goes to wagon and pulls Cork out.] Cork come out of 
that. Don't ye know ye will get lost in the darkness. 

Cork. Is any one dead? 

Pat. No, ye lazy, cowardly nagor. Hurry up and get 
supper. Me stomach is dying of neglect. 

CORK. Beef stake, pork chops, ham and eggs, buffler, 
bear, lamb, sheep, tea, coffee or Idelweis. 

PAT. Shut up, ye lunatic, or we'll send ye to crazy hill. 
What's the matter wid giving us something to ate. I'm 
not peculiar about the style. 

(Cork pours coffee, takes supper, all eat.) 

Wlt. Well, Pat, we must commence in the morning to 
put up our cabin. 

PAT. All right, Mr. Wilton, I'll be wid ye. May the 
Goddess of Liberty bless it when its built. (Front scene.) 
Scene ii. — Wood scene, — enter Clatawah, I. I. e., with 

blankets on arm, — crosses stage and meets Winged Demon 

on I. I. e. 

WINGED DEMON. Where did you find those blankets? 

CLATAWAH. At the camp of your people, down the 
stream. They sent them to Ollechimney and want to buy 
land. 

W. D. White people locating here. (Aside.) [Lucky 
I met this fellow.] How big a camp. 

CLT. [Holds up hand to indicate five.] So you are 
packing offerings of peace to the chief What does he 
want of that trash. Does he not own all this land, and 
can he not kill the white setters and take all they have. 
(Aside.) This Indian is too good for this country. 
(Aloud.) Do you see that hollow tree. Put those things 
there and never touch them again. Go! Take that and 
never return. (Indians passes him and Winged Demon 
plunges knife in his back, as he makes exit 1. 1. e. W. D. 
steps in wing a moment and returns with scalf and bloody 
knife.) 

W. D. He will never interfere with my affairs again. I 
have left the Sac scalp mark on him, and Wapsie will suf- 
fer for this deed. 



WA P S I R. 



"•* ^ *? 



ECT I. 

ScENE-^Zandscape background, rock at left, log at righf^ 
river, and movable canoe. 

[Enter Briar Rose, pappoose on back. 

BRIAR ROSE— Sings — Shegolah, shegolah, 

Sheling, shewing, shegolah. 
[Enter Pinicon] 
Why does Pinicon, daughter of the Sioux, hide her happy 
face in a cloud of trouble? Her heart is not as full of sun- 
shine as it was; her sweet songs no longer mingle with 
those of the birds. What worries my Wood-pidgeon? You 
often seek this glade, though you do not seem to find 
pleasure here. Has the Winged Demon stolen Pinicon's 
heart, or does she mourn the death of Clatawah? 

PlNICON. Pinicon's heart does not beat for the white 
stranger, it is true to her race; the cruel death of Clatawah, 
who loved me, makes me sad; but the heart of Pinicon 
weeps because the white-hawk has poisoned the hearts of 
the chief and young warriors against our cousins, the Sacs. 
War has already brought grief to our tribe. There is more 
than plenty of game for both in this beautiful valley of the 
Father of Waters. Until Winged Demon came, the Sioux 
and Sacs were friends, the chief loved his daughter and 
wished for her happiness, but now he seeks council with 
this paleface, whose tongue is forked; in his breast are 
aroused feelings of hatred, and he longs for the scenes of 
the war path. Pinicon feels that the great spirit is angry. 

Br. Have not the Sacs been the first to put on the war 
paint? Did not a Sioux brave die by the hand of a Sac 
wolf? Clatawah was found with a knife in his back, and 
the Sac scalp- mark was left to tell who the snake-in-the- 
grass was. 

Pin. It is false ! Clatawah met his death by other 



2. WHPSIE. 

hands. I went to the spot where the brave Sioux died 
without warning, and saw what any Sioux might have 
seen had not their hearts been poisoned with lies. The 
foot prints in the soft earth were never made by an Indian; 
nor had a Sac moccasin pressed grass or twig in that lo- 
cality. Briar Rose ! a white man killed Clatawah ! 

Br. Winged Demon saw a Sac prowling around here that 
day. 

PlN. Perhaps Winged Demon has a purpose for report- 
ing strange sights. 

BR. Why need the Winged Demon speak falsely; he is 
brave, and would face the evil one, if in his path. 

PlN. He has not spoken falsely, but implies that the 
Sac killed Clatawah. A Sac brave was in our valley that 
day, but he came not to harm. Are they not our cousins? 
Are they forbidden to come here? Are their war whoops 
heard around our lodges? The Sac had no more reason to 
strike Clatawah in the back, than had one of our own tribe. 

Br. Pinicon speaks wisely, but is not her heart with the 
Sac? The birds sing that Pinicon loves the Sac warrior, 
Wapsie. Clatawah also loved Pinicon, and Wapsie was 
afraid that you would not go to his lodge if Clatawah sang 
the love song of the Sioux. Wapsie hated Clatawah and 
killed him. 

PlN. It is true that Wapsie finds favor in the eye and 
heart of Pinicon — love is not controled by ambitions or 
predjucies of human beings. It is false that Wapie sent 
Clatawah on the long and silent journey. Wapsie does not 
fear the wooing of others. He knows that Pinicons heart 
is true. But had the braves fought for the hand of Pinicon 
and had one fallen under the other's knife, why should the 
tribes go to war, spill more blood and make sad the hearts 
of squaws and papposes. There is a mystery, but Pinicon 
will know. 

Br. [Walking away] Beware, daughter of the Sioux, 
that your love for Wapsie does not bring the hatred of 
your own people on your head. [Exit R. U. E., singing.] 

PlN. This treachery shall be trailed to its lodge. Wap- 
sie's hand is not stained with the blood of my people. 
Wapsie is not a wolf to sneak up and bury fangs in the 



JaZHPSIE. 



back of his prey. He would rather sing his death song in 
the face of his enemy. Had I loved Clatawah, Wapsie 
would rather have thrown his heart to the coyotes than 
taken from me that I loved. [Walks to river and looks, 
then to log. Enter Wapsie in canoe. As he steps ashore, 
she runs to meet him.] 

WAPSIE [throwing arm around her, and as they walk to 
log]. W 7 apsie has kept his word and is here to take Pini- 
con to the lodges of his people. The waters have been 
rippling a love song against the canoe as Wapsie came 
hither. The heart of Wapsie is light. 

PlN. But the heart of Pinicon is heavy and her thoughts 
are sad. My father is angry with your people. He thinks 
you killed Clatawah and wants to dig up the tomahawk. 
Pinicon cannot go with Wapsie now; my flight would cause 
war with our tribes. 

W r A. [savagely] Does Pinicon think the Sacs fear the 
wolves of the war path. Fly in my canoe, and if the Sioux 
dare to follow in our trail, they will find the Sacs more nu- 
merous than the blades of grass, more crafty than the fox, 
and fierce as eagles. They will fight for Wapsie and Pini- 
con, and there will be death songs in all the lodges of the 
Sioux 

PlN. Wapsie is brave, and Pinicon is proud of his cour- 
ageous heart. But I love my people as you love yours. 
Our love should unite and strenghen the friendship that 
has existed for years and not be the cause of war and blood- 
shed. No, the time for Pinicon to wed Wapsie has not 
come. 

Wa. Pinicon speaks wisely, and Wapsie will wait. The 
war whoop of the Sacs shall not cause the Sioux maiden to 
fear. 

PlN. Wapsie IS brave. 

Wa. The heart of Pinicon is good. Her love is like 
the rippling stream than flows through the lands of both 
tribes, murmuring sweet songs to all. 

PlN. Wapsie must go. The sun is getting high and I 
and I must be at the chief's council lodge before the sun 
passes over our heads. Remember that Pinicon wishes the 
great spirit to point out the right for you, and hasten the 
hour when we will be united and loved by both tribes. 



MHPSIE. 



Wa. Wapsie goes, to return when his songbird sings 
for him. [Exit.] 

[PlN. shoots arrow after him; turns and meets W. D. who 
enters R. L. E.] 

WINGED DEMON. —Where is Singing Water going? 

PlN.— To the Council Lodge of my father, where the 
warriors are to speak to-day. Is Winged Demon to be 
away? 

W. D. — I will be there; the chief will hardly commence 
the powwow until his best friend and soon to be son-in- 
law arrives. 

PlN. —It is best to be there early; the chief will be dis- 
pleased with any delays. 

W. D. — Not when his friend has been watching a tardy 
daughter making love to a despised Sac. 

P IN.— Stop! The wolves and bears have often watched 
Wapsie and Pinicon, but never have snarled at us, and you 
shall not. Why did you not insult Wapsie instead of act- 
ing as a spy, and then tormenting one who is in your 
power, because my father is your friend? 

W. D.— It would have been a pleasure for the Sac dog 
to die in your presence; but that is not to be his fate, at 
present. He shall be tortured at the stake, and Winged 
Demon and Pinicon will make love in his presence. 

PlN. —[Slowly.] And Pinicon would do this while Wap- 
sie is being tortured? [Fiercely.] You lie! I would tear 
your flesh from your bones and pull it in shreds or throw 
it on the fire that was to burn Wapsie, before he should be 
insulted by your speaking to me in his presence. Go, and 
follow Pinicon no more, or even her Sioux brothers will 
resent the insult. 

W. D. — Your anger makes you the more bewitching. 
You are game worthy of any hunter's skill. Why not 
plead your lover's cause in council to-day, and defy 
Winged Demon before the chief, as long as the murderer 
of Clatawah dare not be present to sing his own praises? 

PlN. — The murderer of Clatawah will be there and 
plead his own cause with cunning. 

W. D. — Who do you mean? 

PlN.— You! [Picture.] 

W. D.— Ha, Ha. You would bear false witness to save 
your guilty lover. 



WHPSIE. 5 

PlN. It is not false; the spirit of Clatawah stands there 
pointing at you. 

[VV . D. turns in superstitious fear. Pinicon covers 
him with a revolver.] 

W. D.— [Turning back.] Trapped. 

PlN.- Go! And tell the braves that an Indian maiden 
outwitted you; discovered your murderous secret, and 
spared your life when she could have killed you. 

W. D. — This is very clever, but I will humor you, as my 
time is coming. The chief has promised that you shall be 
my wife and that is sufficient. Wapsie's scalp shall hang 
in my wigwam and you shall be my queen. 

PlN. Never! [Exit.] 

[Enter joe and Ralph.] 

JOE. I say, boy, we will have to keep an eye peeled in 
these parts. There is other game aside from bar and bea- 
ver round here. We are gittin' nigh unto the campin' 
grounds of the redskins. The Sioux area unhealthy lot to 
tackle, and worse of all there is a white devil with old Olle- 
chimney's band, who is a terror to all enemies of the Sioux 
'specially whites. 

RALPH. What do they call him? 

JOE. Winged Demon, or something of that sort; but 
He'll wear demon wings all the same if ever I draw bead 
on him. About five years ago he shot my pard, one of the 
best men who ever pulled a trigger or skun a beaver. 

Ral. Who is this white man, and where did he come 
from? 

JOE. There seems to be some question about his iden- 
tity. Some say he is the devil, himself; while others claim 
he is only his right bower. One thing is certain -he came 
from the lower regions. 

RAL. Why is he here? 

JOE. That's onsartin, too. Judging from his edication 
and hatred of white people, it seems reasonable that his 
natural cussedness got him into trouble with his own peo- 
ple, an' bein' a out law he has come out here to 'sociate 
with 'genial company, the savages. 

Ral. Have you ever seen him? 

JOE. Wall, I recken. Wasn't I a captive among the 
pesky varments for a week, an' came near tastin' fire round 



6 WHPSIE. 

the tym'-post. My pard was with me, and the big hearted 
fellow was shot by this white devil while we was makin' an 
attempt to leave the 'siety of the red imps. This white 
man was the cause of our trouble as well as poor Tom's 
death. 

RAL. How was that? 

JOE. Well, Torn had seen the fellow east when he was 
younger, and he recognized him while we were tradin' with 
the Sioux, and spoke his name. He flew into a rage, al- 
though usually cool, and put the Indians up to robbin* and 
killing us. 

RAL. [Excitedly.] What name did he use? 

JOE. Thompson, no — Thornberg, no — Thorn — 

RAL. Thornton? 

JOE. That's it; that's it ! 

RAL. Thank God, I have found him ! 

JOE. You had better pray the lord that you may never 
meet him, if you know him. He don't seem to be real 
friendly to his old neighbors. 

RAL. Joe, you think I am a boy, and not skilled in bor- 
der warfare; that may be true. But I have sworn to kill 
Dave Thornton, if I ever meet him. He may be a cruel 
foe, a dead shot, and lucky as the superstitious term it; but 
mark my words, he will be unnerved when he meets Ralph 
Roylston. God will not permit this man to do double 
murder in one family. I may die by the hand of an Indian 
but this winged demon cannot kill me. If I do die, Joe, I 
do not ask more honorable burial than by your honest 
hands. 

JOE. Well, well, boy, I like yer spunk; and yer can bet 
old Joe will never go back on yer. But we must be movin'. 
This '11 never do. Come on, you can tell me all 'bout it as 
we trudge along toward our beaver traps further down the 
stream. Keep yer shootin' iron handy and look out for 
the blood thirsty Injuns that may be skulking around. 

[Enter bear. W. D. (l R e) Wa (L L e) shoot; both reach 
dead bear at same time; picture; Pinicon steps from be- 
hind rock — Tableau; curtain. 



AaZHPSIE. 



TtCX ii. 

Scene— On Bank of the Wapsie pin icon, Medicine lodge {c) 
tepees, Indian women, girl, Indian bops, Winged Demon, 
Pinicon, Chief and Indians discovered in Council lodge ' 

CHIEF. — Ollechimnev, chief of the mighty Sioux, will 
listen to the words of his faithful scouts, Fleetfoot and 
Silent Water. The braves will speak. 

FLEETFOOT- [Rising] Fleetfoot, who keeps pace with 
the wind, speaks to his brothers, who love this land that 
Manitou has given 'is. Fleetfoot never speaks falselv. 
Two hours' run, with the course of the dancing water, 
Fleetfoot finds pale face lodge. Fleetfoot no like white 
man. Pale faces kill heap game, no ought to. Ugh, there 
is a pale face chief, a red-headed warrior, a squaw, a white 
maiden and a black imp in the camp. Easy kill. 

CHF.-- Fleetfoot runs like wind, sees like hawk, easy 
find Sioux game. But have the pale faces dared to enter 
the mighty land of the Sioux to defy the warriors, or have 
they lost their way and want the red man to lead them to 
their people? Silent Water will speak. 

SILENT WATER. — Silent Water brave Indian, and fears 
not pale faces; your faithful scout moves with the silence 
of the stars, and watched pale faces when they dreamed 
not he was near. Pale faces no good, and frighten game 
with chop knives, cut down lot Ollechimney's trees, build 
big lodge, put up strong fence, stand behind and shoot 
brave Sioux. Silent Water think it bad; let their scalps 
hang in our wigwams. Silent Water like take scalp; have 
white girl for squaw. 

WARRIOR. —[Jumps up, swinging tomahawk.] The 
young braves ask to put on the war paint, arid go on the 
war path. 

CHF. — Silence! Let the Winged Demon speak. His 
words are wise. 

W. D. Ollechimney is a great chief. The tribes to the 
four winds fear him, and the war cry of his warriors strike 
terror to all foes. Mis white brother, who loves him, is 
pleased to speak; let the braves listen ! Ollechimnev, 
chief of the Sioux has seen many snows and is wise ! His 
wisdom has made him chief of a grand tribe and owner of 
this great land ! His bravery has preserved the greatest 



WRPSIE. 



hunting grounds known ! Prairie and timber are blessed 
with deer and buffalo, the streams are filled with fish, 
and the great spirit has sent many fowls for food. No babe 
of the Sioux cries with hunger or cold; no brave returns 
from the hunt empty-handed ! The Great Spirit has given 
all this to the Sioux, and had he wanted the paleface to 
change the original beauty of nature, slay your deer and 
buffalo and plow up the trail of his chosen people, the 
Sioux, he would not place the Indian in power here ! He 
would be angry were you to permit nature here to be dis- 
turbed ! Your brother has a white skin, but his hand is 
against the pale faces ! They kill, but not with bullet or 
tomahawk or in fair fight, but by more cruel methods — by 
their laws ! Winged Demon hates the dough-faced cow- 
ards, his people no longer 1 I came to your forest home 
to shut their hated faces from my sight forever ! Let the 
paleface dogs who have squatted under the shadow of 
your wigwams, die, as a warning to others who may follow. 
Do not show mercy even to the beautiful white squaw ! I 
do not know from whence these ventursome palefaces came 
or whither they wish to go; I do not know who they may 
be, whether relative or stranger, nor do I care; their faces 
would only bring back recollections of associations that 
make me curse my fate because I am of the same treacher- 
ous blood ! However, I know this: If you permit them 
to take root here they will grow like poisonous weeds ! 
They will multiply like the thistle, and crowd you from 
your beautiful lands to the setting sun ! You will melt be- 
fore their war guns like the snow. They will steal your 
lands, cheat you in swapping, build strong houses to hide 
in, and drive the buffalo and elk from the land the great 
spirit has intended for your people. Heed the prophesy of 
Winged Demon, your friend, sent from midst paleface self- 
ishnes and wickedness to warn you. Let your young war- 
riors tear the white settlers from their forest nest, and 
show your enemies, the Sacs, who are about to dig up the 
hatchet, that you are not babes. Winged Demon has 
spoken. 

Ch. The tongue of Winged Demon is gifted with 
wisdom, and his heart is brave. He is worthy of the 
friendship of our tribe. Ollechimney calls him brother, 
and he is welcome to the lodges of the Sioux ! The 



AaZHPSIE. 



young men shall go. [Indians show satisfaction, Pinicon 
steps forward.] 

PlN. Pinicon, daughter of your chief, would speak. 

Ch. Ollechimney knows the bravery of his daughter ! 
But not even a daughter of a chief is permitted to voice 
her satisfaction in the council lodge. 

PlN, "Listen! the voice of Pinicon shall never again 
disturb the sacred silence of this lodge. Pinicon would not 
change the traditions of the tribe! Never has she wished 
to plead in the presence of brave warriors against the judg- 
ment of their chief. If the traditions of the Sioux forbid a 
squaw to speak in council, they also forbid any pale face 
speaking here in the presence of warriors of the tribe. 
Winged Demon has advised you, I also claim a hearing. 
Listen. I am the daughter of a great chief and though not 
permitted to lead on the war path, who dare say Pinicon is 
not brave. Do I ask protection from wild beasts? No! 
Though I boast not of scalps, who has more valuable tro- 
phies of the chase; where among you is one who can send 
an arrow truer to the mark? Who can ride better or 
throw a knife swifter? I am willing to bow my head to 
the will of the tribe as a chieftian's daughter should, but I 
will not be the slave of a paleface, a renegade who has been 
driven from his people, and whose cheeks should burn with 
shame at the thought of plotting for the murder of his own 
innocent kinsmen, IF NOT OUR OWN BRAVES. I love my 
race, my brothers, and their deeds of bravery. I rejoice 
over their victories and mourn when the great spirit is 
angry with them, and would die under torture to 
avenge their wrongs. I am proud to be a Sioux maiden, 
and wish to spend my life in the lodges of my people. Yon 
scheming pale face has asked me to be his wife, and though 
your chief my father has promised that I shall, I would 
sooner die. I ask that the pale faces whom he wishes to 
kill may be spared. It would be better to throw the bones 
of that renegade to the wolves, than harm the innocent 
maiden, whose friends have done us no injury. Winged 
Demon may seem to advise you well, but his power here 
will bring ruin and misery to our tribe. Pinicon has spok- 
en, let the wise warriors of the Sioux heed her voice, or the 
great spirit will be grieved with his people. 



■"> JnZHPSIE. 



W. D. Pinicon is a charming daughter of a brave chief, 
and her voice is music in the hearts of her people whether 
heard in the council chamber or in the wigwam. The 
birds stop singing to listen to the sweet notes from her 
throat. But her heart is tender, and she turns from blood- 
shed with fear. She will think of the words of Winged 
Demon, and regret that she pleaded for the lives of the 
palefaces when her people are driven from this beautiful 
land of the Sioux. Her thoughts are not of war, but love; 
for she has listened to the love song of a Sac, your enemy. 
But I shall kill the dog who has dared to steal her from her 
tribe. Sioux braves listen not to the sentiment of a love- 
sick maiden! Have I not proved myself a friend to you ? 
Have I not earned the name of brother. Have I ever 
skulked on the war path, or failed to aid in your victory 
when your enemies came to burn your lodges, tomahawk 
your babes and steal your maidens. Do you want Pinicon 
to grace the lodge of a Sac skunk? Say no, and his scalp 
shall hang in my lodge; say yes, and Winged Demon leaves 
you. [Drawing a knife] Dare any one deny my right of 
adoption in this tribe? 

PlN. [Pointing revolver.] I dare! And by the mem- 
ory of Clatawah, and all braves who have gone to the hap- 
py hunting grounds through treachery, I swear that if you 
do not sheaf that knife, because I demand it as your equal, 
you will never live to insult another brave Indian. 

W. D. [putting up knife.] Most graciously, fair Pinicon. 

Ch. Peace, peace, my children. It is my wish that the 
pale faces die. [Pinicon attempts to check the demand.] It 
is said. To-morrow night the young men will burn the 
wooden lodge and spare not a single life. My word is giv- 
en, seek your lodges. [Exit warriors and W. D.] 

Ch. [to Pin.] Interfere no more, if you would avoid the 
hatred or your people, or claim my protection. You shall 
wed my white brother. 

PlN. I will die first! Oh! Chief— 

Ch. Go? Tell Halo Cumtux, the medicine woman, 
that the Chief waits for her in the council chamber. [Pin. 
goes to tepee; then to 1. r. e.] 

PlN. [aside] The pale faces shall not die. Pinicon will 
warn them, [exist.] 



JaZHPSIE. 



W. D. [aside] I believe I will take a stroll myself, and 
see what my future wife is about to do. [exist u. r. e.] 

[Medicine squaw enters council L. Business.] 

Ch. What says the Great Spirit? Is he pleased with 
Ollechimney? 

Med. Sq. The Chief should show the wisdom of trees 
and flowers, and be patient, though storm or sunshine be in 
store. He should allow the Great Spirit his own time to 
show the future to Halo Cumtux, his child, (business) I 
see a beautiful maiden of our tribe weeping, and her tears 
swell into a stream. It flows to the lodge of Ollechimney. 
He sleeps — it — Beware. (Curtain.) 



IC'T III* 

SCENE— Back Landscape, Log Cabin (r), Tree near Cabin, 
(I. u. e.) partly hidden by wings, stump (!. of c.'j. Curtain 
discloses Cork tacking coon skin to side of Cabin. 

CORK 'Scuse me. Mr. Injun, I'se been located in busi- 
ness in this section two weeks now, and if any one wants 
my job and will set me down with my wool on, longside de 
ole Mississip, he may have all the assets, and sperience 
thrown in. Here I'se been, protectin' white folks, scarin' 
way de Injuns, and worryin' my po' life outen me keepin' 
my eye on Miss Mollie, and tryin' to prevent her being 
kotched by the liver-colored 'boriginals until general de- 
bility ceases to be a virtue, Common sense and skill are 
not predated. Dangerous to be safe here, suah. 'Scuse 
rne, Mr. Injun, but I'm going to resign. Las night I saw 
a big Injun, higher nor that tree sneakin' around yere. 
Golly, I was so scared that I dared not say a word 'bout it 
to nobody. But if I hadn't— 

Mrs. Wilton. [Inside wagon] Cork! 

CORK. [Startled) Golly, thought I had to do it agin. 

Pat. Do phat? 

Cr. Run! 



inZHPSIE. 

PAT. Run where, ye black coward? Don't ye know the 
woods are full of thim? 

Cr. Full of what? 

Pat. Trees, you black goat. 

Cr. You bet I'll go it, Irish, if Massa Wilton don't elude 
to get outen this. 

MRS. W. [From wagon.] Cork! 

CR. Oh, I'se here. 

MRS. W [Enter L. u. E.] Cork, did you take a fish line 
out of that wagon. I have looked every where for it, and 
Mr. Wilton wanted me to be sure and find it, so he could 
catch some fish for supper. 

[Pat enters cabin arm of wood] 

Cr. Shuah, Misses Wilton, I didn'ttouch it; I havn'tbeen 
near that wagon since I left it. 

MRS. W. You are sure you don't know where it is? 

CR. Suah! Maybe has got it! 

Pat. [At door.] If he has, I'll go you one that there's a 
fish on the end of it. 

Cr. Shut up, you sucker. 

MRS. W. Between Cork and Pat, the howling wolves 
and prowling redskins, it seems as though I would go crazy 
or die of fright. Why did Wilton haul us out into this 
wilderness to be murdered by the cut throat savages? And 
my dear daughter— Cork! where is Mollie, didn't I tell you 
to see that no harm came to her. 

CORK 'Scuse me, might as well look after the buisness 
end of a jimmy cane. I tell you Misses Wilton, that girl's 
a clipper, and she needs some one' sides a colored genemam 
to keep her in sight. She got on the pony and I tole her 
"jest get right down of that horse, he might break her 
record," but she lafifed and said coaxing like: "Cork please 
go into the house and get Gyp some salt," and I innocent 
as a lamb, went in, and when I came out she was outer 
sight, I might have gone six miles any where and not 
found her. 'Oar to gracions she rides like the wind. 'Scuse 
me Misses Wilton, piease "charge me, put me on the next 
train for Qusque, and I'll be willing to 'scuse all back mis- 
takes and send you a better nigger nor I am to do my 
work. 

MRS. W. Of course, you mean well, Cork, and we would 



WHPSIE. 



miss you if you left us; there are few enough of us any 
way. Where is Mr. Wilton? 

[Enter Wilton, Joe and Ralph.] 

WlLTON. H^re I am, mother, and I've brought a couple 
of friends with me. Neighbors are mighty scarce, and I 
w : glad to find two white men near our cabin, [to J and 
R] Guess you were surprised somewhat, yourselves. Mr. 
Allright, this is Mrs. Wilton, and this, mother, is Mr. Royl- 
ston, his friend. 

Mrs. W. I am pleased to meet you, gentlemen, and you 
are welcome to our home — if one may call a nook in this 
wi'd region, home. 

Ralph. I am sure it reminds me of home, to meet you, 
Mrs. Wilton. 

JOE. Wall, it's a better home than I have dreamed of 
for years, I'm awful glad to meet you. Its mauy a month 

ce I have seen a white woman, and I walked purty spry 
over to your camp when your husband told me there were 
women folks here. 

MRS. W. How long have you been in this wild section, 
Mr. Allright. 

JOE. Nigh onto twenty years, fishing, trapping, fightin' 
kins and hating myself. 

MRS. W. Do you often meet white people here? 

JOE. None here, and only once in a while a white man 
or two who meet me down at the mouth of the river to 
buy my furs. But for two years, until Ralph came a few 
weeks ago, I did not set eyes on a white face, and dared 
not approach an injun. 

CORK [aside]. Golly, thar's a game of solytary for you ! 

Mrs. W. Are there no other white persons in this vi- 
cinity now. 

JoE. I'm sorry to say thar's one white man hereabouts, 
but he has a blacker heart than a redskin. He is called 
Winged Demon, but he is so pesky mean, that even the 
injuns are no whar in that line. One might better meet a 
rattlesnake in a holler log with a grizzly sniffin at his heels. 

CORK. I don't see anything white about that kind of a 
fellow. 

MRS. W. You must be hungry, gentlemen, after your 
long tramp. Come inside and refresh yourselves. 



14- WHPSIE 

JOE. I don't care if I do, 

RAL. Your hospitality, Mrs. Wilton in appreciated. 
[All enter cabin, except Cork.] 

MRS. W. [from door]. Here Cork, get a pail of water. 

CORK [takes pail, and at corner of cabin drops it]. Yer 
she is! Yer she is! 

[Enter Mollie on pony, and Mrs. W. from cabin. 

MOLLIE. Well, mother, I am back again, and in time 
for dinner [kisses her]. Hungry? why I am n nish- 

ed. Oh! I had a glorious ride, though. This is the grand- 
est country in the world. I'm completely captivated by it. 

CORK. I tole you you would be captivated The next 
time you won't get away so easy. What you run off iind 
leave your life preserver for? 

MOLLIE. Don't scold, Cork. I am back safe and un- 
harmed. Let us begin over again. 

CORK. You mean it suah, honest injun. You won't fool 
this niggah agin? 

Mollie. Yes, Cork, next time I will tell you I am go- 
ing before I give Gyp the rein. 

CORK. All right. Here, Gyp, you rascal, come along, 
ond help yo'self to grass. [Goes to pony.] 

MRS. W. I wish you would be more care r !, Mollie, 
what would I do here darling, if anything should happen to 
you. 

MOLLIE [tenderly]. Don't worry, mother. A little ex- 
ercise will do me good. I cannot get lost, for Gyp always 
knows the way home. 

MRS. W. Oh! I forgot to tell you — we have visitors. 

MOLLIE. Visitors? 

CORK. Yes we has, Miss Mollie ! 

Mollie. Indians? 

CORK. No-o-o! Real, live white folks £ ' \y bar 

hunter and the nicest young man. 

Mollie. Oh! glorious ! 

[Wilton, Joe and Ralph enter from cabin.] 

WlL. Hello, pet, you are here, are you? 

Mollie. Of course; you did not think that I had gone 
back to the settlement and left you alone to enjoy this 
grand scenery. 

Mr. W. Here's the girl for a pioneer's daughter. She 



WHPSIE. is. 

loves the green trees, merry streams and fresh air. But, 
excuse me. Mollie, these are our new friends, Mr. All- 
right and his friend Ralph. 

JOE —You bet yer can count on us as friends, and if you 
have any trouble with the so-called owners of this stamp- 
ing ground, just let us know. 

MOLLIE. Oh, father, I should have told you before. A 
few minutes ago, I met an Indian girl, as lovely as a flower. 
She said that the Indians know we are here and arc 
angry; that they have decided to massacre every one of 
us; that she came to warn us to leave immediately, and 
under no circumstances to be ungaurded. She said she 
had pleaded with her father, the chief, to spare us; but he 
will not, for he is very angry, as one of his braves had been 
killed by some unknown person. She could use but a few 
words that I could understand, but her gestures were so 
graceful that I knew what she wished to convey. 

MRS. W. Oh, my dear girl, what if the Indians had 
taken you into captivity! My heart comes up into my 
throat to think of such a fate. 

Joe. There was no immediate danger. I know the var- 
ments. If the Indian girl was honest, there were no red- 
skins near, or she would not have shown herself toy 
daughter. I do not know of but one squaw among the 
Sioux, who can speak United States at all, and that is old 
Ollechimney's daughter. 

MOLLIE. Yes, I heard her speak that name. 

JOE. There ma)- be trouble ahead, though, the Sioux 
are a murderous set. 

CORK, [moving away]. 'Scuse me. Guess I'll go back 
to the settlement and tell the sojers. 

Mo. If you should meet the Indians, Cork, tell them we 
are ready for them. Good-bye, Cork, if you „. 
on the way, we will hunt for your body and bury it prop- 
erly. 

Cr. Well-ell-ell, you, yon-ou needn't send me away in 
such a hurry. I want going jest yet. I'm going t t ke 
keer of the pony. 

[Mrs. W. enter cabin, and W. and J. go to stump. Mol- 
and Ralph go to the tree]. 

Mo. How long have you been in the far west, Mr. — 



1a£HPSIE. 



Ral. Roylston. Your father failed to present me in 
full. [Laughing.] 

Mo. Thank you; poor papa is all taken up with his new 
friend, the trapper, who seems to have a vast fund of infor- 
mation of value here. This is not your home ? 

RAL. No, I have been out here but a short time; but it 
seems thai I am forunate in getting into good society 
wi hout much delay. #W*/^ 

Mo. Yes, Wiltonville, as p eop le call ojr town site, has 
a small but select population. Where r your home, Mr. 
Roy! ton? 

Ral. In Ohio. 

Mo. Don't you think you are running a great risk to 
venture out here, where few white people have ever been. 

Ral. I fully counted the risk; but it does surprise me 
to find a young lady of your advantages here. 

Mo. Oh, I am with my father and mother and where 
my loved ones are, I am happy. Father was unfortunate 
in business matters, and wanted to come west, and begin 
anew. We did not intend to come beyond the border but 
stories of this beautitul section, which must soon be set- 
tled by an enterprising people, reached us; and father 
came as far as this beautiful stream and concluded to locate, 
and, really, I am not sorry. This is a picturesque and 
lovely spot, and the novelty of frontier life pleases me. 

Ral. But, seriously, does not the story of this Indian 
Maiden make you regret the venture, 

Mo. It would be useless to regret it now; besides it is 
no worse for me than you and the others. Of course Mr. 
Roylston, life is sweet to me; though I would hardly care to 
live, if mother and father should be killed. But, some- 
how, I feel that all will be right. Father intends to buy 
the land from the Indians; then of course they will not 
harm us. There, father and Mr. Allright are coming; we 
will see what they say. 

Mr. W. Well, it looks squally, that is sure; but I think 
your suggestion is a good one, and if it is not so bad as the 
girl seemed to think, I'll g^o and negotiate with the chief for 
the land. 

JOE. Well, keep up a sharp watch, and I will take a 
walk up the stream and see what is going on at the injun 



WHPSIE. .7 



camp. Come on Ralph. 

R.AL. Perhaps, if there is to be a sudden attack, I had 
better remain and help Mr. Wilton protect the cabin. 

JOE. No. I may want to send you back with an im- 
portant message this evening, before I can return myself. 

RAL. [aside]. I hope he may not be disappointed, and 
that the time to return will come sooner than he expects. 
[To Mollie, aloud.] I hope, Miss Wilton, that the message 
I bring may be a pleasant one, and that you will not be 
kept in anxiety long. Good-bye. 

MO. Good-bye; we all wish you a safe and speedy re- 
turn. [Enter Mrs. Wilton.] 

Mr. W. Yes, take good care of yourselves. We will try 
and keep the cabin standing until your return. (Exit Ral.J 

Mo. Father, I am almost sorry your friends came. I 
never realized how lonesome it really is out here in the 
wilds, until we had visitors. Oh, well, this will never do, 
Guess I will go in the house and read awhile. (Exit.) 

Mrs. W. (Going up to husband.) John, I do not wish 
to make the situation any more gloomy, but I am so sorry 
we ever came here. I know you acted for the best, but, of 
course, none of us realized the dangers fully. John, we 
will be an old, broken down couple if we live, before this 
country is safe for a home. It is unjust to our daughter, 
too, who has had good opportunities to fit her for a happy 
future — to bring her aw r ay from society and civilization. 
Now, please, John, if we live until morning; pack up and 
return to the settlement east of here. I am willing to die 
by your side if necessary, but prefer to live with you, until 
a ripe old age among law abiding people. 

WlL. [Kindly.) Well, mother, you are a comfort even 
when you find fault with me. But, remember, the kind 
Lord watches over us, and if it is His will to give us years 
of happiness, he can bring it about here, among savages, 
as well as in the settlement. I had as soon die by a bullet 
or a tomahawk as to end with small pox or indigestion, if 
we must be separated. 

Mrs. W. Yes, but John, dear, even here we may es- 
cape the tomahawk only to die of exposure or disease; and 
then, our daughter. 

WlL. Yes, Mollie is a dear good girl, and her heart is so 



is. WHPSIE. 



haypy th2t she will learn to love Nature's beauties so dear- 
ly thas she wish for no change. 

MRS. W. Oh, John, you do not understand. I know 
you will think me foolish, but, but oh "I'm so homesick. 
Mr. W. "Well, don't cry, that's a dear. Perhaps I'll — 
Hello! whose is this, another white man, as I live! Well, 
neighbors are getting pretty thick. Guess we will have to 
move a little further west, wife, and avoid the rush. (Goes 
to meet W. D. who enter.) How do you, do, stranger. 
Glad to see you! 

W. D. Well, it does me good, to to see white friends 
again, after being buried among savages and wild beasts in 
this region so long. Was out hunting, saw the smoke 
from your ehimney, and hurried along, hoping to find a 
chance to speak the English language once more. When 
did you locate here? I was over this ground a month ago, 
and Saw no sign of you. 

Mr. W. We have been here nearly two weeks. 

W. D. Nice location, although a little unfortunate in 
case of an Indian attack. The savages might crawl up 
to that grave and pick you off before you know it. Do not 
be frightened, madam, there is little fear of an attack. I 
know the Indians, hereabouts, and they are very friendly. 
How many are there of you? 

MR. W. Five men and two women, including Joe Al- 
right and his friend. 

W. D. The trapper! 

Mr. W. Yes. 

W. D. [Aside.] The devil, this will be no easy job. 
[Aloud] Are you well armed? 

MR. W. Yes, and every one a dead shot. But we do 
not wish to have trouble with the Indians. It is my in- 
tention to buy this land from the chief. Do you know 
Joe, the trapper? 

W. D. Oh, yes, we are friends. 

MRS. W. He said he knew of no other white 
man here. 

W. D. [Aside] That's good. [Aloud] Oh, I have 
not seen him since we were trapping together on the Mis- 
sissippi. Glad to hear he is here. When will you see him 
again? 



WHPSIE. i9- 



Mr. W. I expect him back to-night or in the morning-. 
He went out on a little scout. 

[Enter Mollie.] 

W. D. [Aside.] Phew. Well I'll see that your ac- 
quaintance ceases before he returns. 

MR. W. You see, my daughter met an Indian maiden 
a short time ago who told her that our lives are in danger, 
and Joe has gone to look the ground over. 

W. D. Ha ha! Have no fears. Joe should have known 
better, himself. The Indian girl is hopelessly insane. She 
was in love with a Sac warrior and her father would not 
permit him to marry her. 

Mo. How sad. She seemed as intelligent as any one. 
The Sioux and the Sacs are at war, then? 

W. D. No, but the chief did not like this particular Sac, 
and his refusal broke the girl's heart. 

CORK. Why didn't he give her the sack. 

W. D. My colored friend, if I was you I would be think- 
ing of more serious subjects. You may be Siouxed to 
sleep before morning. 

Cork. 'Scuse me. (Exit). 

W. D. I beg your pardon, Miss Wilton, for exchanging 
puns with your servant to frighten him; but really there is 
no danger. 

Mo. Cork was very rude; but since coming west he 
takes agreat many liberties with his tongue, and we make 
no effort to cheek his mirth, for it really keeps us in good 
spirits So you really think the Sioux maiden is insane, 
and that there is no danger. 

W. D. I am positive, Miss Wilton. 

Mo. Your words relieve me of a great deal of anxiety. 
No one unacquainted with the facts, could have believed 
the poor girls mind unsound on any subject. Papa, you 
entertain our guest, and I will go and prepare something 
to eat, and we will have an early supper. You will remain 
and join us Mr. 



W. D. No, many thanks; I know you would prepare a 
tempting meal, but I must be going, [aside] I want to 
wing that trapper, and if I get him in range he will not es- 
cape a second time, [aloud] "I will see you again to-mor- 
row and bring the Chief with me." [exit; at entrance 



20. 



MHPSIE. 



says aside.] "That is true but they will not care to enter- 
tain us." (Mr. W. and Mollie go in the house.) 

[Turn light down little, enter Mr. W. and Mollie.] 

Mr. W. Well, its getting late, and we must make 
preparations for the night. Strange Joe Allright or Ralph 
do not return. But, of course, he has discovered that there 
is no danger, and so has gone on, or has concluded to come 
back with our new friend and the Chief in the morning. 
He'll be pleased to find his old friend here. I'll have the 
boys see that the horses are tethered properly, and then 
we will close up for the night. 

Mo. Father, I cannot understand why Mr. Roylston 
does not return. 

Mr. W. Why, he has no doubt learned that every- 
thing is all right and will wait until morning. 

Mo. Father, you are wrong. Mr. Roylston is a gentle- 
man and he understood our fears, and woul d only be 
too glad to bring us cheerful news. I feel that our friends 
are in danger. I cannot believe that the Indian girl was 
repeating a fancy. 

Mr. W. Pshaw, girl, didn't the gentleman this after- 
noon assure us that the girl was crazy? You are nervous, 
although that is something unusual for you. 

Mo. Did not the trapper tell us that the Sioux are 
treacherous, and that there is a white man living with 
them who is even more cunning than the savages. 

Mr. W. Yes, but didn't the stranger say he was a 
friend of joe's; and if he is, he told us the truth. 

Mo. I did not like his appearance. Did you notice he 
did not even tell us his name? 

MR. W. Why, that's so. 

Mo. Father, I fear that if we are not vigilant to-night, 
we will never live to see our friends if they do return. We 
ought to take some precaution to protect ourselves. 

Mr. W. Well, girlie, we will have to keep our eyes 
open to please you, We shall have to take turns as senti- 
nels. No move will probably be made before midnight, so 
we will let Cork stand on guard until that time, and then I 
will relieve him. 

Cork. 'Scuse me. 

Mr. W. What? 



AaZHPSIE. 



21. 



Cork. I said, 'scuse me. Do you think I'd be the pro- 
per personage to remain out side and get killed, when my 
sarvices would be so valuable inside, protecting the ladies. 

Pat. [Enter cabin.] Give your tongue a vacation and 
haul in the whites of yer eyes, and they'll take ye fer a 
chunk of night and never notice ye. 

CORK. Keep your head under cover then, or they'll 
think the sun's risin'. 

Mr. W. Go in and get your rifle, Cork, and keep a 
sharp lookout. If you see any signs of Indians give us 
warning. [Exit— Dark— Moon ] 

CORK. You don't ketch this niggah stayin' on a level 
with any red skin. [Tries to climb tree.] I darsent 
leave that pop down here. [Pulls out fish line.] Well, if 
thar haint that fish line Mrs. Wilton was lookin' arter. 
Wonder how it got in there? [Throws over tree. Busi- 
ness.] 

[Voice Inside.] Cork! 

CORK. Ise heah! 

[Voice Inside.] What's the matter? 

Cork. Nuffin. 

Mr. W. [Stepping to door] What made you fire that 
gun off. 

CORK. I didn't; it went off itself. 

Mr. W. Pat, come here; this black idiot will have us 
all murdered before midnight. You may do sentinel duty. 

CORK. That's right, Irish, 111 go in and dream and 
snore for you. [Exit cabin.] 

PAT. [Alone and all quiet.] It's a little oxposed here; 
guess I'll climb the tree [climbs]. Charity begins at home, 
moind that, Whist, what's that? 

[Indian creeps in from wagon to stump, walks to door to 
listen. Pat scared.] 

MOLLIE [inside cabin] I find it impossible to go to 
to sleep. Guess I will step outside and learn if there are 
any signs of Mr. Roylston. 

Pat. [Aside]. Holy smoke! 

[As Mollie opens door the Indian raises tomahawk — Mol- 
lie screams. ■ Pat reaches down and snatches tomahawk 
from Indian and kills him. Indians yell back stage, make 
a rush on cabin, and are repulsed]. 



22. JnZHPSIE. 



CoRK, [at window]. You got him down. Pat. 

[Indians shoot burning arrows at stage; Pat comes down 
the tree.] 

PAT, [shaking fist]. That's your trick, is it? Come on 
wid ye; come on ye red nagars, I can whip the whole dirty 
mob of ye's. While there is a live muscle in the body of 
Patrick McFlinerty, ye shall never harm one hair of swate 
Mollie's head. 

[Enter Joe and Ralph.] 

JOE. Go it Pat, and we'll take a hand. [Curtain.] 



Me*r IV. 



SCENE I. Landscape background, Rock at left, flozvers, 
Curtain discloses Ralph and Mollie sitting on log. 

MOLLIE. You and the trapper arrived just in time that 
auwful night fo save us. We could not have held out much 
longer against the shower of burning arrows. 

RALPH, If we had only arrived in time to have saved 
you the anxiety. But the Indians before evening, seemed 
to know of our presence and were particularly annoying in 
heading us off from this cabin. 

Mo. Thanks to your bravery, they did not succeed. One 
could hardly believe that this beautiful land, flooded with 
God's sunshine and so abundant in nature's blessings, was 
so recently the scene of bloodshed. 

Ral. I cannot think of the danger you passed through 
without a shudder. These are indeed treacherous times, 
and one cannot say that the next minute will not be the 
last. I can no longer keep my secret from you. Fate has 
thrown us together under perilous circumstances; yet fate 
has been kind. Mollie, will you be my wife? 

Mo. There is mother waving her hand to us. We must 
return to the cabin, 

RAL. [taking her hand]. You shall not treat my words 
so lightly. You have won my heart, and I must know 
whether you intend to give me yours in return. Mollie, 
say you will be my wife. [Kisses her.] 

Mo. There, you saucy fellow, that ought to satisfy you. 
Now go and learn what my mother wants. 



iflZHPSIE. 2 3 



Ral. Do not go any further from the cabin Although 
there has been no signs of Indians for more than a week, 
we must not get careless, for there is no telling when they 
will show themselves again. 

Mo. I am so near the cabin there can be no danger. 
[Exit Ralph.] He is a dear heart, and if he only knew it, 
I have loved him from the first. [She goes to 1. u. e. to 
pick flowers. Indian creeps from r. u. e. When near c, 
Mollie looks up and screams. Shots fired from 1. 1. e., In- 
dian catches Mollie, holds in front of him, backs to pony 
and rides away. Joe, Ralph and Pat enter at 1. 1. e.] 

RAL. Oh, why did I leave her even for a moment? I'll 
kill that red brute if I die for it. [Starts. J 

JOE. [Pulling back.] Do you want to commit suicide ? 
Nothing can be gained by such rashness, boy. Trust in 
me and be patient, and we will make the red devils pay for 
this work. 

Ral. They may kill her while we are waiting. 

JOE. No danger of that; had the Injun wished to kill her 
he had an opportunity to do so. But I was sartin I hit him 
when I fired; he did the act up brown, though. Come on, 
we must be moving. [Exit.] 

CORK. [Enter 1. 1. e.] This niggah hasn't much nerve 
on ordinary 'casions, but I can't bear to hear poor Missus 
Wilton take on that way. Ise going to help Miss Mollie 
outen this scrape if I have to climb the frame of every In- 
jun in this section. 'Scuse me. [Exit.] 

SCENE 2. [Indians, Ponies and Captive stop to rest.] 

Silent Water. We have not rested for two suns, heap 
hungry. [Eats.] 

Chief. (Enters.) Why did not Silent Water kill the 
pale face maiden? That was the order of Winged Demon. 

S. WATER. Winged Demon has no power to change 
the traditions of the tribe. I captured the pale face maid- 
en and claim her for my slave. 

CHIEF. Silent Water listened not to the Chief; yet he 
is right, and his prisoner shall live. 

(Enter W. D. 1. 1. e.) 

W. D. Oh! you have captured the pale face squaw, but 
why trouble to take her to the lodges of the Sioux? Are 



24 UtfHPSIE. 



the Sioux chicken-hearted? Shall Winged Demon show 
you how to scalp? [Starts toward her. J 

Ch. Silent Water wishes to keep her for his slave, and 
I have no power to prevent. 

W. D. Silent Water is a fool, the maiden should die. 
We have no time to watch her. The Sacs are on the war 
path, and every warrior is needed at the camp of Ollie- 
chimnev. Come on, you have delayed too long now. 
[Exit.] ' 

[Ralph, Joe and Pat cross after.] 

(Enter Wapsie. Wapsie crys like whippoorwill. Pinicon 
enters r. 1. e. and goes to side.) 

Wapsie. Pinicon's thoughts seem to be lost in trouble. 
Can Wapsie do anything for his song bird? 

PlN. Sh — ! you must not be heard or seen here. A bad 
storm beats in my father's heart, and it is best that it does 
not burst upon Wapsie. 

Wap. Wapsie fears not the storm; his thoughts know 
only Pinicon. When she is not in sight, the loneliness in 
his heart is more to be dreaded than any storm. Come! 

[Enter Chief and discovers them.] 

Chief. Wapsie, dog of a Sac, go! Let not even the 
trees hear your love song again, or it will be turned into a 
death song. [Wapsie and chief draw knives.] 

PlN. [stepping between them.] Wapsie will not strike 
the father of Pinicon, even in anger. 

(Wapsie throws away knife and folds his arms.) 

Ch. Go! or I will sound the warwhoop and my braves 
will not spare you. 

Wap. [making exit moving slowly backward.] I go, not 
that I fear death, but because I love Pinicon. 

Ch. (to Pin.) Even the dogs howl at you for meeting a 
foe of the tribe by stealth. Prepare to wed the Winged 
Demon. Ollechimney owns no Sac for a son. 

PlN. Chief, spare me this cruelty, and I will promise 
never to see Wapsie again. That fate would be worse 
than an arrow in my heart, but Pinicon will keep her word. 

Ch. You shall wed my white brother, tomorrow; my 
will shall be obeyed. Stir not from your wigwam until you 
go with the paleface chief. You know what I mean. (Exit.) 

SCENE hi. (Landscape Indian encampment. Curtain 



MHPSIE. 2 5. 



discloses Mollie tied to the tree; Indians around, Winged 
Demon and Pinicon.) 

W. D. (Walking over to Mollie.) "Well Miss Wilton, 
you seem to have suffered by the fortunes, or rather mis- 
fortunes, of war. 

MOLLIE. Yes, and had your voice prevailed, we would 
have been murdered a week ago, or I would have been 
tomahawked in cold blood yesterday. 

W. D. [Laughingly.] "Yes, my power with the tribe 
seems to be waning; had the Indians followed my advice, 
they would have killed you on the way here. I am really 
sorry that you were so foolish as to come out here; but you 
came, and that was no fault of mine; now, that you are 
here, you must put up with the circumstances. Your In- 
dian maiden over there seems to have recovered her men- 
tal forces. 

MOLLIE. Yes! you seem to be the one who has lost 
your senses. 

W. D. [aside) She's a cool one. [to Mollie.] So you are 
to administer to the comforts of Silent Water. Well he 
will probable kill you in time! 

Mo. Death would be preferable to life-long captivity 
with such brutes! 

W. D. The prospects are not inviting, Miss Wilton, I 
admit, but I can do nothing for you unless it will be to 
have some of the savages tomahawk you. If I can be of 
any service to you in that line, I'll be pleased to serve you! 
Ha ha. 

Mo. I would sooner expect mercy from the savages 
than you. Do you know that a white man, who will decoy 
persons of his own race into the clutches of murderous 
savages, is a coward? I do — 

W. D. Be careful; I am not in a mood to be tantalized — 

Mo. Murderer of innocent women and children, do you 
think you can frighten me? You are mistaken. You have 
not the courage to murder me, knowing that Silent Water 
would take revenge. You have the courage to murder in- 
nocent maidens who have no protection. 

W. D. (Drawing a knife.) And you dare to speak to 
me like this? Say your prayers, you have just time to do 
so, or take back your words. 



26 MHPSIE. 



Mo. Strike, you coward, if you dare! 

Silent Water. [Stepping between.] Ugh! Paleface 
maiden no belong to Winged Demon. She Silent Wat- 
er's squaw. 

(Indians yell behind curtain. Enter, bringing in Cork, a 
captive. Fleetfoot brandishes tomahawk over his head.) 

CORK. (Pleading.) Don't kill me! Ise no paleface, 
Massa Injun; Let me join dis gang and I'll be a good In- 
jun. 

S. W. He no good. Squaw can have him. 

CORK. (Aside.) Golly, dar's Miss Mollie. Like to tell 
her dat Joe and Ralph are near here. 
(War Dance.) 

W. D. Warriors, go to the forks of the river and prepare 
for the journey toward the Sac tepees tomorrow. 
(Indians prepare for night.) 

PlN. (leaves wigwam.) I have done all that a chief- 
tain's daughter is asked to do. No longer will I be the 
daughter of a Sioux. My father threatens me with a fate I 
will not submit to. Not one of my own tribe give me 
sympathy. Wapsie alone loves me. Wapsie, I come to 
you, and bid farewell to the land of the Sioux, that I have 
loved as the deer loves its fawn. May the Great Spirit 
bless my father and his tribe, and touch their hearts. Pini- 
con goes! [Exit.] 

[Joe crawls to Cork and cuts cords, and creeps out — Pat 
gets behind tepee — Ralph crawls to Mollie with knife in 
hand — Cork sneezes, Pat jumps to his assistance, business. 
W. D. jumps toward Mollie.] 

W. D. Ralph Roylston! 

Ral. It is, you murderer. 

W. D. Ralph Roylston, Dave Thornton is no coward, so 
far as physical pain goes. I could have killed you before 
you spoke, had it been simply a matter of skill; but I can- 
not harm you. I loved your sister, worshipped her. I was 
not good enough for her, and your father was right. But 
my selfishness would not permit me to resign her to any 
one else. I was insane, and I murdered her. I have been 
wild, cruel, mad, ever since that fearful moment that she 
lay dead at my feet. (Ralph threatens.) Hold! until I fin- 
ish, then do what you will, I have no power to prevent. F 



MHPSIE. ?7- 



escaped the officers and came to this wild, lawless country, 
beyond the reach of the law. I have faced danger in every 
form, hoping that some wild beast might tear my limbs 
from my body or that some friendly bullet might end my 
worthless career. But I have been spared, for what, I 
know not, unless to prolong my agony or wait for you to 
avenge the wrong. I knew you would hunt me down! I 
wanted you to (he opens shirt front.) There, strike. Bury 
that knife in my heart. 

Ral. I cannot strike a man in cold blood. 

W. D. What matters it to the Judge of all human ac- 
tion, whether a man, knowing he is right, fulfills the ven- 
geance of Divine law, and strikes down the criminal with 
his own hand; or that a number of men, backed by human 
law and mortal intelligence, hang him by the neck until his 
life ebbs away. A life for a life is just. Strike. 

MOLLtE. Oh! Ralph, do not stain your hands with 
human blood! 

W. D. So you interfere! Ralph Roylston, you bury 
that knife in my heart, or I will plunge this in your sweet- 
heart's breast. I will count three; heed my words, for I 
will do all I say. One (Ralph starts) two!---thr— (Ralph 
steps between W. D. and Mollie. Joe fires a revolver and 
W. D. falls. [W. D. struggles, creeps to Ralph with knife, 
gasps.] Ralph, finish me! [Ralph takes knife from hand 
and throws away. Dies. Front drop.] 

SCENE IV. (Enter Wapsie.) 

WAPSiE. Were it not for Pinicon, whose heart is for 
peace, I would bring my braves and make the Sioux wolves 
howl for the insult heaped upon Wapsie tonight. Even 
the owls hoot at Wapsie for his weakness. This land does 
not belong to the Sioux that the chief can order Wapsie 
to leave it. If I should go to the lodges of my people and 
tell them that I did not strike the chief, they would call 
me a squaw. Shall I go back to the young men without 
the maiden I love, and tell them the chief would not let 
Wapsie bring her; or shall I let his heart's blood flow with 
this knife. A dumb brute would know better what to do. 
To submit to Ollechimney's crazy wish would be disgrace; 
to fight against Pinicon's wish would be worse. I'll--- who 
is that? Can it be Wapsie's song bird? Yes, it is Pinicon, 



23 WHPSIE. 



PlNICON. (eiuer r. 1. e.) Wapsie, the heart of Pinicon 
can bear no more without breaking. I have pleaded for 
peace, offered to sacrifice my love for my brave Wapsie; I 
have done all things to warm the heart of the chief, only to 
be spurned, and, worse, threatened with a fate that I will 
not permit. Wapsie, I have remained with my peop'e 
whilejmy'heart has been with you because I wished to teach 
them better things than warfare; but I seem only to make 
matters worse. Pinicon will go with Wapsie. If war must 
follow, let the Great Spirit punish those who are wrong. 

WAPS E. Pinicon's heart is full of sunshine, and brings 
forth flowers; the Sioux trample them under foot, but Wap- 
sie and his people will benefit by their fragrance. Let the 
wolves follow; if we can reach Wapsie's camp, no one can 
harm us; if not, we can go to the good land together. 

PiN. Hark! The chief and his warriors are in pursuit. 
We must fly. Come, you cannot .battle with them alone. 
To meet them means your death and my disgrace. Wap- 
sie, kill me before you let the Sioux capture me. 

W T AP. Wapsie and Pinicon shall die together first. Exit. 

(Enter chief and braves in haste and cross stage. Cur- 
tain drawn on back scene. Enter Wapsie and Pinicon, 1. 1. 
e., pass behind rock. Indians follow. W. and P. reach point 
of rock as chief enters 1. 1. e.) 

PlN. The chief can no longer crush Pinicon's heart. 
Pinicon goes with Wapsie to the land of sweet peace. The 
love of Pinicon and your hate will clash no more. Father, 
you have sent me on the long journey, but I fear not; 
Wapsie is with Pinicon. * 

Ch. Ollechimney has faced death as the panther has 
met the hunter— -without fear. But to see Pinicon, queen 
of the Sioux, go down to death because of my cruelty, 
brings a torrent of grief to Ollechimney's heart. The winds 
mock my grief, the waters that swallow my children laugh 
at my sorrow; even the leaves of the trees dance merrily 
because the proud chief mourns. Ollechimney, chief of the 
Sioux, will kill no more. (Indian appears on rock, and 
points excitedly to river. The chief turns his head away.) 
"Cumtux, the medicine woman, was right." The tears of 
Pinicon have drowned my heart. Oh! great spirit. Olle- 
chimney bows his head in fear and humility. 



MHPSIE. 

iter ▼. 

SCENE i — Landscape, cave in background. Curtain discov- 
ers Ralph, Mollie, Joe dismounting from ponies at mouth 
of cave. 

Joe. I knew we would have a tough time of it getting 
away from the crazy devils, after killing Winged Demon. 
Might have cut the livers out of half the bucks of the tribe 
and not aroused as much hatred as we have by plus^ino- 
that dare-devil. 

RALPH. Well, Joe, you saved me the unpleasant duty 
of killing the fellow to save Mollie's life, and I want to 
thank you. You have braved much to serve us, and I am 
afraid we can never repay you. 

JOE. Well, old fellow, if putting that villain out of sight 
is reckoned a favor, we'll call it quits, for he has caused 
bloodshed and misery enough to suffer a thousand deaths. 

MOLLIE. Please, dear friends, do not refer to the un- 
fortunate man again. It seems as though I can never for- 
get the pitiful scene his death has impressed upon my 
mind. He was very wicked, and his death is for the good 
of all yet his was a character to be pitied. He had the 
advantages of education and suffered much from remorse for 
his insane deeds, and his crimes are all the more unpardon- 
able as he was capable of better deeds and a nobler life. 
He has gone to meet a just and merciful Judge, Spare my 
nerves arul let him rest. 

CORK. 'Scuse me, Miss Mollie, but I'm of the de indi- 
vidual opinion dat we all will hab de pleasure ob seeing his 
nibs sported to de brimstone land, from an etherial point 
of view if we don't wiggle outen dis scrape mighty sud- 
den. 

Joe. Yes, our trail has been a plain one, and we must 
not let the grass grow under our feet in preparing for the 
varments, who will soon put in an appearance, if I'm not 
mistaken. I don't want to frighten you, but the truth of 
the matter is that our chances of ever reaching a place of 
safety are small. I'd rather take my chances in a nest of 
wild cats. W 7 e have lost some of our weapons, our ammuni- 
tion is nearly gone, and the ponies are unfit for a race for 
life. We are lucky in reaching this cave, as there is a nat- 



30 MHPSIE. 



ural advantage in its interior formation that will permit us 
to hold the whole tribe at bay. The Indians know this, 
but they will also know that they have us in a trap. We 
will be shut off from food, and they will try to starve us 
out. It is our only chance, however. Only strategy or 
some act of Providence can save us. Don't waste a single 
shot, only to save a life. 

MOL. Don't look so sad, Ralph. Death must come 
sometime, and we will at least have the pleasure of dying 
together. 

RAL. It seems cruel, darling, to die, now that we are so 
happy in each other's love. But that is not so sad a 
thought as that of your possible captivity. 

MOL. Do not worry. I feel that all will be well, even 
though we die together. Poor Pat, I presume the Indians 
have murdered him; for they certainly captured him. 

JOE. We have no time to lose. Did you see that Indian 
dodge behind that rock down there? It is dangerous to 
remain out here a moment longer. [all ex ^ cave.] 

CORK. (At mouth of cave]. It's a bad perdicament dis 
niggah's in. Here we is, buried alive, and nuffin to eat. 
Ise going to have something to eat, if I have to kill and 
skin an Indian. [Shower of arrows makes him dodge into 
cave. Enter Indians and yell and dance.] 

Fl FOOT. Silence! Fleetfoot will bring the game from 
the cave of the evil spirits. Bring the prisoner here. [In- 
dians bring in Pat.] Prepare the stake and torture the Red 
Head with fire. [Indians obey]. Does white man want to 
live? 

PAT. Ye devil's own bunion, do ye think I'm aching for 
angel wings? 

Fl FOOT. Indian let Red Head go if he go to cave and 
ask to get in. White Hunter then roll stone away and 
come out. Indian kill others and let Red Head go. 

PAT. [Aside.] So swate Mollie and the others are alive 
and in the hole. [Aloud.] Go to the divil wid you. Do 
ye take me for a decoy duck? 

FL FOOT. Red Head no want to save his own life then? 

Pat. Do you take nre for a banshee. - . ? f 

Lt FOOT. Me light fire. 

PAT. Go on wid your fireworks. [Aside] I seem to be 



WHPSIE. 3> 

badly tied up in my business affairs, and may have to go in- 
to liquidation. I'll try a new dodge. Listen to that! 

VOICE in the fly. Don't burn the Irishman. [Fleetfoot 
business; again starts to light fire.] Don't burn the Irish- 
man! 

PAT. The Great Spirit of the white man is angry wid 
yez, and warns the Indian; beware! If you attempt to 
burn me, I'm loikely to turn into water and drown the 
whole gob of yez. 

V. in fly. The white man tells the truth; yez better take 
friendly warning; I'm heap mad. 

PAT. Did ye listen to that; I wouldn't be in yer boots 
if yez ever strike the blaze. But I have a vision. The 
Great Spirit is purty hostile; but he don't want the earth. 
If you promise to let me go, and kill no one but the trap- 
per, we can make a swap. 

FL FOOT. All right, me do it; Red Head go to cave and 
ask white friends to let him in and we be good friends. 

PAT. You will promise to kill no one but the trapper, 
who shot Winged Demon. 

FL FOOT. Me let others go. 

Pat. Well, cut me loose. [Indians release him and go 
near cave and Pat goes to mouth of cave and calls:] I say, 
Joe, let a poor devil in. I've just given the red nagars the 
slip, and they are almost at my heels. 

JOE. Are you sure you are alone, Pat? 

PAT. Divil an honest Injun is there wid me. 

JOE. Pat, I am sorry that we cannot give you a helping 
hand, but the risk is too great; it takes too long to move 
the rock and get it in shape again. Run for your life; it's 
better that one die than all of us. 

PAT. Mucha, the divil take you for murderers. Please let 
me in; the red divils will be back soon, and when they find 
that I've kilt one of their number, I'll be a dead Irishman, 
immedjately. Don't go back on a friend, I wouldn't. 

RAL. Say, Pat, go over the hill, and we will meet you. 
We have discovered another outlet to the cave, near the 
river. Don't let the Indian see you near there. 

PAT. May the divil catch ivery one of yez for going 
back on a friend. [To Fleetfoot] Kill the whole cowardly 



a?- WHPSIE. 



gang, for all I ^care. The great spirit has soured on them 
for forsaking a poor orphan. 

Fl FOOT. Braves follow Fleetfoot; Bear Paw stay here 
and watch mouth of cave; give war whoop if palefaces go. 

[Indians exit 1 u e; Pat has business and kills Bear Paw] 

Pat. Joe, Ralph, Mollie, come quick; you have no time 
to lose. The only red heathen is the naborhood is laying 
here staring at his spirit making a home run by special re- 
quest. [Enter Joe, Ralph and Cork:] 

JOE. Are all the red divils out of sight. 

PAT. Yis, every mother's son of them, except the poor 
divil lying here without even his breath to kape him com- 
pany, 

Mol. [Enter from cave. J We are all glad to see you 
alive, Pat. Your pleading would have brought all of us to 
the mouth of the cave, had it not been for your powers of 
ventriloquism, which warned us and deceived the Indians. 

Ral. Yes, Pat, your wit saved us for the time being, at 
least. Are you ready, to move on, Mollie. 

Mol. Yes, I now feel strong, and feel much encouraged 
by Pat's strategy. By all means, let us leave here at once. 

[Exit; Indians return, give death song and start in pur- 
suit. Front shift, all cross stage.). 

SCENE i i. — A glen with water fall, opening at right repre- 
senting valley. 

JOE. It's no use, Ralph, draw your bowie, and sell your 
life as dearly as possible. My last load of powder is gone. 
This is no time for scenes. Ralph, old fellow, I have grown 
to love you and Mollie dearly, and am willing to die for 
you. Pat told us that the Indians would let the rest of you 
go if they conld get me. Good- bye. (hold out hand.) 

Ral. Joe, what do you mean? 

JOE. I'm going to sell my life more than dearly; I have 
been selfish too long; I'm going to accept the terms and 
give myself up, if they will let you go. 

RAL and Mol. Never. 

JOE. Do not interfere, it'will be t6"o late in a moment; 
I must die anyway; it is only a question whether you live. 
The world is before you; my day long passed. At least let 
me see what they will do. (steps forward and signals to 



JnZHPSIE. 33 



Fleetfoot; business.) The Sioux know that the white trap- 
per is no coward. Many a Sioux brave has gone to the 
happy hunting ground by my hand. Your people would 
give you great honor if you should take me alive to your 
people to torture. Let these people go and I will give my- 
self up alive; refuse, and I will kill myself before your eyes. 

[Indians consult; Mollie and Ralph plead with Joe.] 

Ral. You shall not sacrifice yourself. If you give your- 
self up, they will overtake and murder us just the same. 

JOE. I will not give myself up until you have been gone 
an hour; if an Indian follows my promise does not go. 

MOL. Oh, Joe, this is terrible, it is wicked. 

JOE. Silence, the Indians have decided. 

Fl FOOT. Fleetfoot has talked with his brothers and it 
is said that all must die but white squaw; Silent Water 
still claims her, and will not let his game escape. 

Ral. God protect us, and forgive me this awful crime if 
it falls upon me to carry it out. (Stands by Molwith knife.) 

JOE. Ralph, a man who refuses to kill an enemy in cold 
blood, and then has the nerve to take the life of his sweet- 
heart to save her from trouble, is brave enough to die; let 
the whelps come; they will find us ready. 

Pat. Hurry up ye lazy, butchers, ye will find a whole 
slaughter house here. [Indians attack; enter chief.] 

CHF. Back! Let not a warrior strike! Ollechimney is 
bowed with grief; the spirit of Pinicon commands peace ! 

MOL. What can he mean? 

Joe. Listen! Pinicon and Wapsie are dead and the 
chief is heart-broken! He will save us! 

Ch. Pinicon and Wapsie have sought the happy land by 
plunging in the river through grief because I wanted war 
and listened to the wicked voice of the demon! Let these 
people depart in peace! [They go; scene shifts; they cross 
stage in front; and meet Wilton and wife.] 

Mrs. W. Oh ! my dear, darling girl! to see you home 
again fills my heart with joy and thankfulness! 

MOL. And we owe all to our dear friends! 

Wilt. Come inside and-tell us all about the perils you 
have passed through! 



WHPSIE. % 



ItCT v. 

Scene. John Wilton's home— Six months is supposed to 
have elapsed— curtain discovers Cork fishtng. 

CORK [preparing- hook], Dis yer is a happy niggah. I'se 
gone through the late wah and come out without a scare. 
I'se sat down on the Indian trouble when the Winged De- 
mon was called to poke the fire for Belzebub. Dah Injuns 
'low to behave themseves now. Golly dars to be a weddin' 
too, de fust in de land. Dar, Mr. fish [throws line] please 
bite, that's a honey (line jerks, and Cork pulls]. Golly, I 
thought I had a whale [throws again]. Dat's right, little 
fishy; dat's right, kotch hold tight. 

Mrs. Wilton [from cabin door]. Cork! 

CORK. Hush, honey, Is got a bite, suah! (Pull.] Come 
outen dat, you sucker, come; steady thar — come! [Pulls 
out fish). Dars, de kine dis niggah picks out. 

MRS. W. Cork ! Cork ! ! 

CORK. I'se here. 

MRS. W. Go and tell Ralph and Mollie to come to din- 
ner. . ■ 

CORK. All right, Misses Wilton; they s just down de 
river a little way. I'll call call 'em. 

Mrs. Wilton enters cabin, Cork commences to fish again 
and catches hook in pants, throws, etc. Enter Pat. 

PAT. To think I'd be after comin to America to see a 
cat-fish walk. 

CORK. You'll see and learn lots of things if you stay 
here long enough. 

PAT. Hang on nig. I'll be wid you in a minute. 

CORK. Lub me alone you go away. I don't need no 
help in dis time. 

PAT. You no fisherman. 

Cork. Why! 

PAT. Fish don't like moke for bait. 

COUK. Dar's wha you display your ignarance. De best 
fishermans in the land some times use cork on dar lines; 
I'm a cork not bait. Go wav foolish. 

MRS. WILTON. Cork, call the folks to dinner right away! 
CORK. All right, I'se going [drag fish pole after him] 



3& 5nZHPSIE, 

I'se just been looking for you all ober. 

(Enter Ralph aud Mollied.] 

MOLSIE. Why Cork, did you catch that fish? 

CORK. Yes, Yes, I catched him, Miss Mollie. 

MOLLIE. What a beauty! 

Ral. Sure you didn't buy it of some one Cork? 

CORK. Buy it; couldn't buy nuffln; havn't drawu any 
salary for three months, and de Injums picked my pocket 
when they captured me. But that's nuffin to what I 
cotched on the mouth of Otter Creek once. Why a fish 
that long 1 . 

Mrs. W. Cork? 

CORK. Ise coming. [Exit.) 

RALPH. Well, Pat, how would you like to go to work 
for me. I'm goin^ to build a cabin over there, and Mollie 
and I are going to make it the coziest little home in the 
west. Isn't that so? 

Mollie. Yes. 

PAT. [Aside) If he thinks I'm going to stand around 
there and see the two turtle doves coo, he's mistaken. 
[Aloud) What do ye want me for? 

RAL. Help build the cabin. 

PAT. I'm wid ye. 

[Enter Wilton and Joe.] 

WlLTON. Well, here you are, happy as the birds. I 
say Joe, it never entered my mind when you came to our 
ranche six months ago, that you was bringing my son-in- 
law with you. 

JOE. Well, Wilton, I brought you a good one. He's 
honest and brave, and got plenty of pluck. That's what 
counts in the west. An' he's hitchin' onto a gal thal'd make 
any man happy. Mighty glad I called that day. 

MOL. Yes, Mr. Allright, we shall always bless the day 
you came. You not only saved our lives, but was the 
means of making at least mine happy, after saving it. 

Ral. Yes, Joe, you shall have a front seat at the wed- 
ding, and a wedding feast such as you have not dreamed 
of for years. And you will always be a welcome guest at 
our home. ^X&IXL^ 

JOE. You folks are a spw+t—ia me, Guess I'll have to 
push on a little further into the Injun country after the 



WHPSIE. 



wedding festivities. It sort of takes the gimp out of me to 
sir 'round here and eat three regular meals a day. 

WlL. We will not listen to your going, Joe. Stay here, 
take up some of this land, and in a few years you will be 
rich. This is bound to be the greatest spot in the north- 
west. 

MOLLIE. Of course Mr. Allright is going to remain in 
this section. He has already deprived himself of home 
comforts too long. 

JOE. You're almighty cordial and I'll not be in a hurry 
to move, although the fit to hunt buffaler and bar and fight 
Injuns, may come on at any time, But since I settled that 
account for my pard, with Winged Demon, I have no 
special wish to leave my friends. 

Mo. Why don't you get married and settle down, and 
have a home of your own. 

JOE. I know you say that from the goodness of your 
heart, Miss Mollle; but you do not know what memories 
you are rakin' out of the ashes of the past. 

Mo. I beg your pardon, Mr. Allright, if I have unwit- 
tingly injured your feelings. 

JOE. No, no, girl, you do not understand. loved one 
girl once, ond can never love another. But this does not 
interest you. When do you commence to build, Ralph? 

Mo, Do go on and tell us the story of your romance. 

Ral. Yes, Joe, go on, I confided in you. 

JOE. It does not amount to much to tell, but it was every 
thing to me. I was always a common fellow, and very 
plain. I expect I did not have much get up; but I fell in 
love, as the saying is, just the same. The gal was a good 
bit brighter nor me, and I was afeared to let her know I 
was smitten. I plucked up courage once or twice to take 
her sleigh riding, and she seemed to be pleased, Well, I 
was about to ask her to be my wife, when a young fellow, 
with hiflutfng airs, came to the town and he was not slow in 
siding up to Nell — my, but it sounds funny to speak that 
name aloud once more---and of course I acted the fool and 
was jealous. Nell was very kind, though, when she met 
me, but I sulked and let her alone. One night I heard 
some one say she was goiitg'to marry the young fop, and 
my heart went almost to smash. So I wrote her a letter, 



s? 



WHPSIE. 



telling her my love, and came out west and hid myself in 
the wilds. 

MOLLIE. Why, didn't you go and tell her, instead of 
writing. 

JOE. I didn't have the sand. That was twenty years 
ago, and I presume she is married and has forgotten me 
altogether, although I shall never forget her. 

MOLLIE. Who was she, and where did she live. 

Joe. Her name was Nellie Bradshaw; we lived in Van- 
Wert, Ohio. 

Mr. WlLTON. Nellie Bradshaw; why she is my cousin. 
That accounts for it. Say Joe, you better prepare to take 
a trip east. This makes plain something I could never un- 
derstand. She has refused several good offers and is 
Nellie Bradshaw yet. 

JOE. What! not married! you must be mistaken. 

Mr. W. I'm not, and you had better put yourself to 
rights again. Nell is a sensible sort of a girl, and you two 
fools may mike each happy yet. I'll write to her. 

JOE. No! I'll go this time, but if you are mistaken I shall 
never show my face to a white person again, as soon as I 
can get beyond the border. 

Mr. W. Never fear, I know it is all right, Joe. We are 
about even now. You brought me a good son-in-law, and 
I send you to get a wife. 

[Enter Mrs. Wilton] 
Say mother Joe is going after cousin Nell and bring her 
back as his wife; my, but this country is having a boom. 
Aren't you glad we located here. The Indians are friendly 
since the old chief lost his daughter, and we are all happy. 

MRS. W. I must admit that the longer I remain here, 
the more like home it seems. And now that Mollie is to 
be marjied and settle near us, I can be contented. There 
certainly is no prettier place, any where. 
[Enter Cork.] 

CORK. I say, Marse Wilton, the old chief is out there 
in the grove and wants to see you. Shall I dump him in 
the creek. 

Pat. No, one in that family is enough for a river of this 
size. 

Mr. W. Bring him here. 



JflZHPSIE. , 3^ 

CORK. 'Scuse me. 

Mr. W. I'll go, perhaps it's best. 

MRS. W. I wonder what he can want; I'm always 
afraid an Indian is going to kick up some deviltry. 

MOLLIE. Poor Ollechimney has been very kind since 
Pinicon's tragic death. That was a sad blow for him. 
Here they come. 

[Enter Chief and Wilton,] 

OLLECHIMNEY. Chief has come to shake hands with 
his friends. [Shake.] Ollechimney has much to say. He 
is going away. Paleface maiden was good to Pinicon and 
Chief never forget. His heart is warm toward her. When 
all others were cruel to Pinicon you was kind to her. Ol- 
lechimney cannot forget his daughter, the song bird, and 
will always be a friend to those she loved. I know that 
more palefaces will come, and that my race must go; I can- 
not help it. The great spirit knows it is best. Ollechim- 
ney will fight the palefaces no more. The past makes his 
heart sad, and he cannot stay where all things bring up 
thoughts of Pinicon. Promise me one thing, and Olle- 
chimney gives all this land to the white squaw. Let that 
beautiful river in which my children lost their lives, be 
called after their names — Wapsie and Pinicon— for it sings 
the song of their love. I hear it day and night. 

Mo. Chief, your wish shall be law. Beautiful river, I 
christen thee Wapsipinicon. May the land you murmur 
through be blessed with peace and prosperity. While your 
swift current may be as impulsive as the brave Wapsie, 
may your waters ever be as pure and good as the sweet 
Pinicon. Wapsipinicon, thou shall ever remind us of the 
dusky lovors who sought refuge in your liquid depths ! 

CoRK. 'Scuse me ! 

CURTAIN. 



SnYOPSIS of PIiAY. 



^55^ 



ACT I. — The Sioux Squaw's warning to Pinicon — the Lov- 
ers' tryst — Pinicon's grief — Wapsie's bravery — Winged 
Demon trapped — The trapper's story — Ralph Roylston's 
mission — The double shot — It is mine — Recognition — 
Tableau. 



ACT II. — Indian encampment — The Council Lodge — The 
Palefaces in the balance — Winged Demon's eloquence and 
cunning — The Chief's decree, "The Palefaces shall die" — 
Pinicon pleads for the lives of the settlers — "They shall 
not die; I will warn them" — The Medicine woman's sad 
prophesy — The chief in doubt. 

ACT III. — Cork's soliloquy — Pat's advice to Cork--Cork's 
charge and anxiety — Mrs. Wilton's troubles — Visitors — 
Mollie Wilton — The Indian maiden's warning — Mrs. Wil- 
ton's lament — "I'm so homesick" — Winged Demon makes 
some startling discoveries— Cork on guard — Pat's brave 
act — the attack—Pat's challenge. 



ACT IV.— Ralph's proposal — Mollie's peril— Ralph's devo- 
tion- Cork's brave resolve— In captivity —Ghost dance — 
Wapsie's pure love — "You shall not strike my father, even 
in anger!"— The chief threatens Wapsie— "I go, not be- 
cause I fear death, but that I love Pinicon" — Pinicon bids 
farewell to the Sioux — The rescue— Cork's blunder- 
Face to face— Cork redeems himself— Winged Demon's 
secret— Joe prevents a sad ending to the play— Wapsie 
and Pinicon's flight— The fatal rock— The chief's grief. 



ACT V— A happy darkey— A wedding on the tapis— Joe's 
romance— A startling disclosure— The chiefs visit— A 
gift and promise of peace— A christening-— Curtain. 



